


Holidate

by EclecticMuse



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No SHIELD (Marvel), Background Daisy/Lots of People - Freeform, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fitzsimmons Secret Santa 2020, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Holidays, Humor, Light Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Pining, background Huntingbird - Freeform, background mackelena
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:28:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticMuse/pseuds/EclecticMuse
Summary: After coworkers Jemma and Fitz both have miserable Christmases with their families, they realize they have the perfect solution to the same problem they share: pretend to date on major holidays so both their families and their friends will get off their backs about them being single. But as the year goes on, they realize that their platonic setup might be producing more genuine feelings than expected. It might be a problem neither one of them can solve. AU of the Netflix movie of the same name,
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 52
Kudos: 82





	1. The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LilacFeather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacFeather/gifts).



> Written for my dear frienf LilacFeather for the FitzsSimmons Secret Santa 2020, who requested an AU of the Netflix movie Holidate! As is completely on brand for me, I realized this would end up being a lot longer than a simple one-shot and I would have to break it up into chapters. I'd hoped to have more done by today's posting date, but unfortunately real life happened. I hope this turns out to be what you wanted and that you enjoy it! Thank you so much for being such a good friend and for helping me out with my Jemma Simmons wardrobe acquisition quest. You're the best!
> 
> I'll be adding more chapters as I finish them, which I know is not the norm for me, but I don't want to make you guys wait forever. Hope you enjoy!

Jemma Simmons sighed as she walked down the busy Boston sidewalk toward SciTech Laboratories, where she worked. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been so glad to see the multi-story concrete-and-glass building in her life. Coming back to work after the holidays meant a return to normalcy and routine, which she thrived on, and an escape from the prodding and nagging of her family. She hadn’t expected that—the nagging, that is. It had turned what should have been a nice visit with her parents into a trial to be endured.

It had been a long time since she’d gone home to England to see her parents, as airfare was costly and her budget didn’t often permit it. She’d been excited when she’d bought her ticket, looking forward to going back to Sheffield and the familiarity of the UK, seeing her parents after such a long time, and generally indulging in the Christmas spirit. But then the questions had started.

“Are you seeing anyone right now?”

“Whatever happened to that Milton fellow? He seemed so pleasant.”

“When are you going to find a nice man and settle down?”

“It’s just, Jemma, love, you’re almost thirty. I’d like to be able to spoil my grandchildren before I’m _too_ old and grey.”

It had been maddening. She knew her parents meant well and only asked because they cared, but Jemma had wanted nothing more than for them to leave it all alone. She was perfectly happy being single six months after she’d broken things off with Milton, and she didn’t want to feel pushed to get married and have kids just because her mother’s biological clock was ticking. She was content with her life and trusted that if anything was going to happen, it would come along at the right time. She didn’t need her family meddling in her personal life like they had any real say in it.

Which was why she was glad to be back home in Boston and back at work. The lab was a safe place for her, where she could do science and keep things neat and in order and know she was creating things to help make a better world. She didn’t have to worry about her personal life and her parents’ worries over it there. It helped that she had a lab partner who was extremely intelligent, efficient, and easy to get along with. 

Leo Fitz had been assigned to work with her around five years ago, when he’d first come to work at SciTech after moving to Boston from Scotland. He was a dream to work with: smart, funny, kind, and he didn’t try to hit on her like so many of their other male colleagues did. He made coming to the lab every day a good experience, something Jemma looked forward to. They meshed well together. So she was eager to see him again after the holiday and engage in some of their usual quick banter after the frustration of dealing with her family.

Going through the glass double-doors into their lab, she saw Fitz already at his station, going through his morning emails on his computer. “Good morning, Fitz,” she said brightly, heading for her own station. “How was your Christmas?”

“Eh,” Fitz muttered, barely looking up from his computer screen. 

That gave Jemma pause. Fitz could be prickly at times, but he was usually never short with her. Setting her bag down next to her station, she shrugged out of her coat and draped it over the back of her chair. “That doesn’t sound good,” she said carefully, watching him. “Did you have a bad time at your mum’s?”

He’d gone back home for Christmas as well, and like herself, he’d been excited before they’d parted ways for the holiday the week before. Hearing him sound so unenthused now worried her.

“I just—well—it was kind of rubbish,” Fitz said, glancing back at her.

Jemma frowned as she took her seat in front of her computer and pressed the button on the tower to boot it up. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Um—not really.” He scratched at his ear. “Kind of wish I could just forget all about it.”

Jemma sighed in sympathy. “Well, hopefully it wasn’t as bad as _my_ Christmas,” she said. 

That got Fitz to swivel in his chair fully to face her, wincing as he did so. “Oh, no. You too?”

She nodded. “Oh, yes. My parents and all the rest of my family were very nosy and kept asking all about my love life, wanting to know if I was seeing anyone and whatever happened to my last boyfriend and when I’m going to find someone and get married because I’m almost thirty. It was horrible.”

Fitz winced again, nodding knowingly. “Ah, so a bit like mine then.”

Jemma’s eyebrows went up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said nodding again. “Well, a bit. Um—my family was grumping a bit over me being single too, so I let my cousins set me up with this girl from down the street for Christmas dinner. I figured that would shut them up. And it was alright—until I found out she wanted something serious and expected me to have sex with her after dinner.”

Jemma gasped. “ _No_.”

Fitz rolled his eyes, swaying back and forth in his seat a bit. “Oh, yeah. She was mental. She got real angry when I turned her down. Called me lots of nasty names. But—I mean—I’m not into one-night stands and it’s not like we could have anything real anyway, she’s in Glasgow and I’m here in Boston.”

Logged into her computer, Jemma brought up her email client and made a soft, sympathetic noise. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. It sounds awful. I hope your cousins made it up to you.”

Fitz shrugged, turning back to his computer. “Well, it’s over with now,” he muttered. “And that’s the last Christmas I’m doing at home for a while, so that’s that.”

Jemma frowned slightly at the back of his head, hating that he’d had such a miserable time at home, then turned her attention to her own computer. But as she went through her emails, replying to coworkers and typing up lab requests, their similar experiences stuck with her. 

“You know, I don’t know why people have to be so concerned with others’ love lives,” she said into the peaceful silence of their lab a few minutes later. “There’s nothing wrong with being single!”

Fitz half-turned in his seat to look at her. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I mean—I’m fine as I am.”

“Me too.” Jemma clicked ‘send’ on an email and sighed. “And there’s nothing wrong with being single at thirty, either. There’s no clock I’m supposed to beat or race I’m supposed to win. There’s nothing that says I have to be married and settled down by a certain age. There’s plenty of time for me to find the right person.”

“Yes, exactly,” Fitz said, nodding. She could tell by the amused smile on his face that he was humoring her, letting her vent, but she didn’t mind. That was one of the things he was good for—he didn’t ever judge her for anything. “We’re still young,” he continued. “It’s not like—I mean, you won’t be doomed to the singles retirement home if you’re not married by your thirtieth birthday, yeah?”

“Not according to my family,” she replied, smiling back at him. “Or my friends. They’re bad to tease me about it, too. I’m the only single one in our friend group now. Technically. I do admit it gets a little awkward sometimes, being the odd one out. I have no one to sit with when we get together, and they give me these pitying looks that I can’t stand.”

Fitz nodded sagely, leaning back in his seat. “Yeah, I get it. My mates give me a hard time, too. They keep trying to set me up or tell me to try these dating apps, and I’m just not interested. It gets really old.”

“Yeah,” Jemma sighed. “I just wish there was some way to get through the rest of the holidays without being bothered. I’m not really looking forward to New Year’s. I think it’s the one holiday second to Valentine’s Day where people _expect_ you to have a date.”

“Yeah,” Fitz echoed her with a grumble. “You’re right about that.”

They both turned back to their computers to finish their morning email rounds, but Jemma was still thinking. She and Fitz had the same problem. They were both single, and they were both pestered by friends and family for it. They both disliked the attention. But they were also lab partners, friends. They got along well. What if they could help each other out? What if they could solve their respective problems of being single on New Year’s so no one would bother them? A logical, practical solution began to form in Jemma’s mind.

“Fitz,” she said later, while they were both standing at the holotable, “what if we solved our New Year’s problem together? You’re planning on going to the company party, right?”

“Yes,” he said, looking over at her.

She smiled. “Right. So… what if we just went together?”

He froze, his hands poised over the 3D schematic of the miniature drones they were working on. “You mean, like a date?” he asked, the tips of his ears going red.

Jemma laughed awkwardly. “No! Um, no, not like a date… well, sort of. Yes, a date. But as friends. So no one will be able to bother us about not having dates.”

“Alright,” Fitz said slowly.

“I mean, we both have the same problem,” Jemma rushed to add, suddenly feeling like she had to justify her plan. Fitz didn’t look one hundred percent sold. “Our friends are going to tease us if we don’t have dates, so if we go with each other, they won’t have any room to talk. A nice, easy solution. And I won’t make you dance or anything like that if you don’t want to, we can just have drinks and talk about our projects here or whatever you like.”

A smile finally appeared on Fitz’s face. “Or people watch,” he suggested. “People watching while you drink is fun.”

“Absolutely,” Jemma said, relieved he wasn’t shooting her down outright.

He pushed the schematic hologram out of the way with his hands and smiled wider. “You’ve got a deal,” he said. “I’ll go with you. I wager it’ll be more fun than drinking too many beers at the open bar by myself anyway.”

Jemma lit up, thrilled. “Brilliant! Here, pass me your mobile so I can put my number in. We can go over details later.”

She smiled to herself as Fitz reached into his pocket for his phone and handed it over. She had the feeling that with a solid friend like Fitz at her side, her New Year’s plans had just gotten infinitely more interesting.


	2. New Year's

“Say what you will about SciTech being full of stodgy scientists and engineers,” Fitz said, “but upper management really knows how to throw a party.”

Jemma hummed in agreement as they entered the ballroom of the hotel hosting their lab’s annual New Year’s Eve bash. The lights were low, the heavy bass of the music was pulsing, and someone must have been handing out glowsticks, because there were small but colorful flashes coming from the crowded dance floor. It looked more like a rave than a corporate holiday party, but Jemma wasn’t one to complain. Even stodgy scientists and engineers deserved an opportunity to let their hair down, and this was usually a fun event to attend. 

“We get a lot of funding,” she told Fitz, having to speak loudly to be heard over the boom of the music. “Seems only right to spend some of it on one nice party a year.”

He smiled at her, then gestured for her to follow him deeper into the crowd, headed for the bar. They’d only made it a few steps when they were stopped by Sally Webber, a chemist from the lab next door to theirs.

“Hi guys!” she said brightly, waving with her free hand—her other was occupied with a half-empty cocktail. “Good to see you!” Then she did a double-take and looked between the two of them. “Hey, did you come together?”

Fitz and Jemma exchanged a look. “Yes, we did,” Jemma replied, looking back at Sally with a smile.

Sally’s face lit up. “Oh, how cool! Like a date?!”

They exchanged another look, this time wide-eyed. “Oh, no, no,” Jemma rushed to say, at the same time Fitz said, “No, we’re just friends.”

“Oh.” Sally deflated a little. “That’s disappointing. Anyway, I was on my way to go meet up with the girls from the solids lab. Have fun, happy new year!”

She grinned and waved before pushing past them to disappear into the crowd. Fitz made a face before they resumed their trek to the bar.

“What do you think she meant, ‘disappointed’?” he asked. “Do you think—”

He was interrupted by the loud blast of a party favor and said party favor being blown in front of his face. Fitz pulled up short just in time to avoid being smacked in the nose by it and looked over to find their deputy division chief, Nathanson, grinning at them.

“Hey, Fitz!” he called out over the music. “And… hey, you brought a date! Hey, Simmons!”

“I… well, yes, I did,” Fitz said, just a touch awkwardly. 

“That’s great!” Nathanson beamed. “When did you two start going out?” 

Fitz looked aside at Jemma, his mouth half-open, before turning back to Nathanson. “Ah, well… we’re not. Dating, I mean. We’re just here as friends.”

“Just friends,” Jemma echoed with a smile. 

“Oh,” Nathanson said, much the same way Sally had. “Bummer, sorry for the confusion. Did you guys just get here?”

Fitz nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, there’s plenty of beer and liquor at the bar, go help yourselves,” Nathanson said, pointing in the direction of their goal. “I’ve got to make my rounds and say hello to everyone in the division. Nice seeing you, have fun!”

He blew the party favor again, making Fitz wince, and went on his way. Fitz gave Jemma a vaguely suffering look, then put a light hand at the small of her back to guide her toward the bar again.

They had almost made it there when a shout caught their attention. They looked over to see Grimes, one of the lab techs from Sally’s lab, pushing his way through the crowd toward them. “Hey hey hey, if it isn’t my two favorites nerds!” he called out as he approached them. “Good party! How are you two doing?”

“We’re fine,” Jemma shouted over the music.

Grimes eyed Fitz’s hand, which was still at her back. “Did you guys come here together?”

Fitz dropped his hand as Jemma fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes, we did, but it’s not like that,” she explained, wondering if she had made a mistake in asking Fitz to come with her. Everyone was being so _nosy_ still. “We’re just friends.”

“Could have fooled me,” Grimes said, not looking fazed in the slightest.

“Um, I’m going to go get us some drinks,” Fitz interjected, coughing. “What do you want?”

“I’ll take a beer for now, thanks,” Jemma said, smiling at him. “Want me to grab a table?”

He nodded. “Yeah, do that. I’ll be right back.” He turned to make his way through the crowd over the last remaining distance to the bar.

“You should ask him out,” Grimes said. “You’d make a great couple.”

This time, Jemma did roll her eyes. “I’m not looking for a relationship right now.” She looked past him, to where a line of small, tall tables ringed the dance floor. “I’d better go see if I can find Fitz a table. It was nice seeing you.”

She beat a hasty retreat, and as soon as she had staked out a table for them, looked back in the direction of the bar to see if she could spot Fitz. He was lost in the crowd and the dim lighting of the room, but Jemma still smiled. He’d shown up at her flat just past 8:30, ready to take an Uber with her to the hotel, and she’d thought that he cleaned up nicely in his dark suit and skinny tie. It was a departure from the plaids and prints he wore beneath his cardigans at the lab. He’d told her she looked nice in her dress, which she’d thought was sweet of him. It was above and beyond for a platonic date.

A few minutes later, Fitz arrived at the table with two open bottles of beer in hand. “One bottle of Benderry’s, as requested,” he said, sliding one of them across the table to her. She accepted it with a smile and immediately took a sip. Fitz took a long sip of his as well, then set the bottle down and rested his forearms on the table, grinning at her. “Ready to start drinking and people watching?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Jemma said, grinning back at him. 

They started with all the people out on the dance floor, commenting on dancing ability and who was dancing with who, people they’d known were together and others they were surprised to see with each other. It was a fun way to pass the time; Fitz was as witty as he always was, and it was much better than being stuck with the girls from Sally’s lab, making small talk and drinking cocktails.

“Look at them,” Fitz said, gesturing with his bottle to a couple who was dancing nearby, close to the edge of the dance floor. “That’s almost inappropriate for public, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I think it is,” Jemma observed, taking another sip of her beer. “A bit raunchy, if you ask me. Isn’t that… they’re from upstairs, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Fitz said. “I see him sometimes in the break room. He says their microwave upstairs never works.”

“Hmm.” Jemma watched the couple grind and sway together to the beat of the music and scrunched her nose, trying to imagine being that liberal with someone in public, much less at a _work_ function. “I didn’t even know they were together.”

“Me neither.” Fitz’s eyes scanned the crowd; then he rapped his knuckles against her arm. “Oh hey, look, there’s Sanderson. Is he dancing with his _admin assistant_?”

Jemma looked around the crush of the crowd until she spotted who Fitz was talking about: a tall, older man with greying hair dancing with a much younger woman. “Oh, I think he is,” she said with interest. “That’s definitely Leanne. The bleach blonde gives it away.”

“They’re not being very subtle.” Fitz snorted in amusement as he lifted his beer to his lips. “This is going to be all over the lab on Monday.”

“You never know. She might be angling to be wife number three.” Jemma shook her head. “Too bad it won’t last.”

“Oh, here’s a good one.” Fitz tapped her arm again. “See that couple over there, off to the side? They are definitely getting engaged at midnight.”

Jemma looked at the couple in question. The woman she vaguely recognized as being a junior lab tech, and was standing with a few of her coworkers, talking excitedly. The man was standing slightly to the side, looking nervous. “How do you figure that?” she asked.

“Look at them,” Fitz said. “That poor bloke looks nervous as hell. I’ve been called a romantic, trust me—he’s getting ready to pop the question.”

“He could be nervous about anything,” Jemma countered. “Maybe he doesn’t like dancing.”

“Trust me,” Fitz said again. Then something else caught his eye and he grinned, taking a long swig from his bottle. “Unlike these two. I think he really likes her, but she’s just out for a good time—”

Jemma found the couple he was talking about and her breath caught in her throat. Heading past their table was—

“Daisy?” she said, catching the attention of her friend and the man she was with. Daisy stopped in her tracks, looked around, and when she saw Jemma, she lit up.

“Hey, Jemma!” she cried, stepping closer to the table and pulling her date—a tall, well-built man with messy dark hair and scruffy cheeks—with her, her arm around his waist. “I was hoping I’d see you here! Great party!”

“What are you doing here?” Jemma asked, her nose scrunching in confusion. “You don’t even work for SciTech.” She peered at her date, who looked unfamiliar. “And neither does he.”

Daisy just smiled. “I hacked myself an invitation, duh,” she said brightly. “You always talk about how fun your company parties are and I couldn’t find a good one to go to this year, so I thought I’d crash!”

Fitz was looking between the two of them with a lost look on his face. “Who…?”

Jemma gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry. Fitz, this is my friend Daisy, we’ve known each other since I moved to Boston. Daisy, this is my lab partner, Fitz.” Fitz raised his beer bottle in a small salute, while Jemma looked at Daisy’s date. She’d never seen him before. “And this is…”

“Oh!” Daisy smiled up at her date, who beamed back down at her. “This is Miles. We work together.” She leaned in across the table so only Jemma could hear her. “He is _way_ too bad boy to be a keeper, but I think he’ll be great in the sack, you know what I mean?”

“Right, of course,” Jemma said, nodding as Daisy straightened up and smiled at Miles again. Daisy had never kept a boyfriend for long; she had no doubt that Miles would be history before January was done, if not sooner.

Then Daisy smiled at Fitz. “And hey, look at you, you’ve got a date, too!” she said, giving him a once-over. “He’s cute.”

“Um,” Fitz said, his eyes widening in alarm.

“Oh, he’s not my date,” Jemma rushed to correct Daisy, feeling a bit like a broken record. “I mean—not a _real_ date. We’re not dating. We’re just here as friends.”

Daisy gave her a shrewd look. “Does _he_ know that?”

Fitz stood up a little straighter, like he’d just been insulted. “Yes, I do,” he said.

“Aww,” Daisy replied, and affected an exaggerated pout. “Well, it’s a shame it’s not a real date, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be any no-strings-attached fun, right?” She squeezed Miles against her side, as if to prove her point. “Anyway, we were on our way to the bar, so we’ll catch up with you later. Have fun!”

They walked off into the crowd, and Fitz watched them go, a fair bit of alarm still in his eyes. Then he looked at Jemma. “Did she—I mean, did she just suggest—did she say we should—?”

She couldn’t really tell in the low lighting of the ballroom, but Jemma was positive that Fitz was blushing. “Yes, she did,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But don’t worry about it, that’s just the way Daisy is. I don’t think she’s ever seriously committed to anyone. I believe it stems from her childhood—she grew up around a lot of foster families.” She frowned down at her empty beer bottle. “Do you want another drink?”

“Yes, please,” Fitz said, before she was even done asking.

-:-

“All I’m saying is,” Jemma said, waving her gin and tonic and nearly spilling it, “is that it’s very unrealistic! There’s _no_ way a successful young professional woman would leave her job and her life in the city to move back to a sleepy little town for a woodcarver. Even if he was very good-looking.”

Fitz tried to hide a smile behind his glass of whiskey. “Even if it was true love?” he asked.

“Even if!” Jemma cried, and took a sip of her drink. “It just doesn’t make sense! Maybe if there was some sort of compromise, or a trial run of a long-distance relationship to see if they really wanted to make things work, but dropping everything? It’s just not pragmatic.”

Fitz laughed. “What do you have against Hallmark movies?”

“Nothing,” Jemma insisted. “I just don’t believe they’re very realistic.”

“They’re not supposed to be,” Fitz said, laughing again. “They’re meant to be something fun and sweet and mindless to watch over the holidays.”

She gave him a speculative look over the rim of her glass. “Don’t tell me _you_ like them.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind them. They’re fine to put on the telly if I’m doing chores around the flat or I want a break from video games.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Jemma sang. “You’re a romantic.” 

Fitz made a face before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,” he said. “I thought women were supposed to like romance.” His expression went funny. “Not that I would know.”

“Oh really?” This was interesting. Jemma set her drink down and leaned forward on the table. Now that she thought of it, Fitz had never mentioned seeing anyone. “No girlfriends? Not ever?”

“Not a one,” he said with a sad shake of his head. “Just haven’t found the right girl yet, I guess.” He sipped at his whiskey again. “Um, what about you?” When she just blinked at him, he smiled and added, “Who ruined Hallmark movies for you?”

She laughed. “Oh, no one.”

“Weren’t you dating someone a while back?” he asked, squinting at her.

“Milton?” Jemma replied, and Fitz nodded. She waved a hand. “Forget about him,” she said, and picked her drink back up for another sip. “I’m well rid of him.”

“Ah,” Fitz said. “Good.”

Jemma raised her eyebrows at him. “Hmm?”

He coughed. “I just meant—good if you think you’re well rid of him.”

They kept chatting until they finished their drinks, then went for more. Eventually Jemma convinced Fitz to come out onto the dance floor with her for a while. All of the alcohol they’d had probably helped; Fitz didn’t complain once, and they had a blast jumping around to the beat of the music, laughing and spinning each other in circles, daring each other to dance a little wilder. It was the most fun Jemma could remember having in a long time. Certainly, it was more fun than she would be having if she was trying to impress a date. She didn’t have to do that with Fitz. She could just be herself.

After one particularly loud and boisterous song, Fitz said he needed the loo. He disappeared off into the crowd, and Jemma moved off to the side of the dance floor so she wouldn’t get in anyone’s way. 

Suddenly, the DJ cut the music. “It’s almost that time!” he announced over the microphone. “We’ve only got one minute left until the new year. Let’s get ready for that countdown…”

“Oh, bloody hell,” Jemma murmured to herself, looking back in the direction Fitz had gone. “He’s going to miss it.”

All of the partygoers started yelling the countdown along with the DJ, and Jemma watched as the numbers on the screen behind him counted down to zero. Then the clock struck midnight, everyone cheered, and the speakers started blasting Frank Sinatra singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’. Around her, couples started hugging and kissing. Far across the dance floor, she spotted Daisy and Miles locked in a rather heated kiss. In another corner, she saw the male half of the couple Fitz had pointed out earlier going down on one knee, proposing to his girlfriend. It seemed like everyone had someone they were with—everyone except her.

A rush of loneliness suddenly came over her. She was happy with her life—she truly was—but she could admit it would be nice to have someone special on a night like this. Someone she could snuggle up to, hug, kiss. Someone she could look forward to a brand-new year with.

Fitz appeared at her side, a little out of breath. “Ah, bollocks, I missed it,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He looked at all of the couples surrounding them—some still kissing, some toasting drinks, a few others dancing slowly to the music—before looking back at her. “Happy new year, Jemma,” he said, smiling at her. 

Jemma smiled back at him, small but genuine. She might not have someone special, but she had Fitz, who had been a wonderful date for the night: fun and witty and gentlemanly. She could have done a whole lot worse. “Happy new year, Fitz,” she said in return.

His smile widened, and after a pause, he leaned over and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. It was brief, almost awkward, but it only made Jemma smile even more. Fitz really was a good egg. He was sweet. She was glad she’d asked him to come with her. New Year’s Eve would have been very lonely without him.

-:-

The taxi ride back to her flat was mostly quiet. Jemma had offered to take her own Uber, but Fitz had insisted on making sure she got home safely. She thought that was rather old-fashioned but gallant of him, and when he offered to pay for the ride, she acquiesced. So there they were, sitting in the backseat of a taxi watching the city lights pass by outside the windows and thinking about how awful their hangovers would be in the morning.

“I had a good time tonight,” Fitz said at last, breaking the content silence between them. “It was fun.”

“It was,” Jemma replied, looking over at him and smiling in the dark of the car. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“No problem.” Fitz smiled too, reaching up to scratch at his chin. “So… should we do it again for Valentine’s Day?”

Jemma’s jaw dropped. “What? Fitz, that’s two months from now. Who knows where both of us will be by then. You could meet a really nice girl.”

“Not likely,” he muttered.

“You might,” Jemma insisted. “Or I could meet someone.”

“Right, right.” Fitz looked away. “It was just a suggestion.”

Jemma put out a hand toward him across the bench seat. “A very kind suggestion, but an unnecessary one, I’m sure,” she said. “We might not need each other in two months.”

“Right,” Fitz said again.

When the taxi pulled up outside of Jemma’s apartment building, Fitz smiled at her again as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “Thanks again for asking me out,” he said, then made a face. “Not _out_ out, but—you know.”

She smiled brightly as she prepared to open the car door. “Thank _you_ for coming with me. I had a really good time. Happy new year, Fitz.”

“Happy new year, Jemma,” he said as she got out of the taxi, and he waved at her as she shut the door. She waved back at him through the window, and then the taxi drove away. She smiled to herself as she watched it go off down the street, then turned to walk into her apartment building. She needed to remember to set out some water and a bottle of acetaminophen before she went to sleep. She was going to need it in the morning.


	3. Valentine's Day

“Oh, what do you think of this one?”

Jemma looked up from the invitation catalogue she was browsing through to see Daisy pointing out a sample in her own catalogue to their friend Elena. It was Valentine’s Day, and they were spending the afternoon at a stationery boutique at the mall picking out wedding invitations for Elena, who was getting married in the fall. Their friend Bobbi had come along to help. 

“I’m not sure,” Elena said, pursing her lips in a frown. “The text is… _too_ flowy, if you know what I mean? It’s hard to read.” She shook her head. “I want something a little more simple.”

Daisy tilted her head as she gave the sample a second look. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s a little too much.”

Jemma turned a page in her catalogue and looked at yet another set of cards with curling script with elegant lines and flowing swashes. This one would probably not be to Elena’s tastes, either. She turned the page again. No, Elena wouldn’t like this either. Maybe there was a section of the catalogue with less-fancy script?

“I’m sorry you don’t have a date tonight, Jemma,” Bobbi said, looking up at her from her own catalogue. “I hate the thought of you sitting at home alone while the rest of us are out.”

“I won’t be the only one,” Jemma sighed, hating that her friend had brought the subject up. “Daisy doesn’t have a date either, so why focus on me?”

“I don’t count,” Daisy said. “I got pulled in for the graveyard shift tonight at work, remember?”

Jemma nodded. “Ah, right.” Then she looked at Bobbi. “And you barely count, either. When was the last fight you had with Hunter?”

Bobbi lifted her chin as she turned a page in her catalogue. “He’s behaving himself right now,” she said primly. “So I absolutely have a date tonight.”

“Yeah, if he remembers what day it is,” Elena muttered, earning a laugh from all the girls.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Jemma said, bringing the conversation back around. “I don’t need a date. Today is just another day. It’s a regular Saturday. I’ll go run by the shops, maybe buy some sweets and nice wine, go home, and watch _Roman Holiday_. Maybe do some reading. If I’m feeling really indulgent, I’ll have a bubble bath.”

“Ooh, a bubble bath,” Daisy teased.

“That’s very fancy,” Bobbi added, smiling.

Jemma felt her cheeks flush. “Don’t make fun of me!” she cried defensively. “It’s self care.”

Elena’s expression turned patient, understanding. “Are you even looking to date anyone right now?” she asked.

Jemma shrugged. “Not really. I’m not actively looking… but I’m also not _not_ looking, if that makes sense. I’m just… living my life.” She shrugged again. “I’m happy.”

“Hey, what about that guy I saw you with on New Year’s?” Daisy asked, leaning forward in her seat.

“Fitz?” Jemma asked dismissively. “I told you, he’s just a friend.”

“What’s this about Jemma being with someone on New Year’s?” Bobbi said with interest, her eyebrows going up. “This is the first I’ve heard of that.” Next to her, Elena nodded. 

“Because there’s nothing to hear,” Jemma groaned. “Fitz is my _lab partner_. We went to the party together so people would stop bothering us about not having dates.” She looked around pointedly at her friends.

“Really?” Daisy said, sounding disappointed. “No spark?”

Jemma thought about going with Fitz to the party—while she’d had fun, she hadn’t felt any deeper attraction to him. Certainly not anything that warranted going any further. Nothing had changed between them since; it was just business as usual at the lab, working together and trading quips and sharing science articles. He was an excellent coworker and a good friend, that was all.

“No, nothing like that,” Jemma laughed. “I’d hate to ruin a good working relationship with a romance gone bad.”

“Too bad,” Daisy pouted. “He was cute, I think you should have asked him out.”

Bobbi nodded sagely. “I totally understand. But hey, this means I can introduce you to this guy from my physiotherapy group, his name’s Daniel—”

Jemma made a face. “Oh, Bobbi, please—”

“He’s really nice!” Bobbi exclaimed. “Like, really old-fashioned nice. And he’s handsome. And free tonight, I think. I bet you’d like him.”

Jemma sighed. She knew Bobbi was being well-intentioned, but as always, her friends’ attempts to set her up chafed. She’d rather find someone on her own—naturally, organically. The thought of being set up or going on a blind date or even trying a dating app just felt horribly awkward to her. More awkward than she usually was with men, anyway. It wasn’t her style at all. 

“Thank you, but I think I’ll pass,” she said, closing her catalogue and setting it on the low table in front of her. “And on that note, I think I had better be going. I still have a lot of errands I need to run before the shops close.”

“Okay,” Daisy said, grinning at her. “Lots of time to get ready for your date with Gregory Peck?”

“Yes,” Jemma replied with no trace of shame, standing and shouldering her purse. “Good luck finding an invitation style you like, Elena.”

“Thank _you_ for coming to help,” Elena said with a smile. “Enjoy your movie and bubble bath.”

Everyone said their goodbyes to her, and Jemma headed out of the stationery shop and back into the mall, breathing a quiet sigh of relief as she did. She genuinely enjoyed helping Elena plan her wedding and hanging out with her friends, but now she could focus on the rest of her day without the stress and strain of being reminded that she was single. Today, of all days.

As she’d said, it was just another Saturday to her.

She passed a little Godiva chocolate store on the lower level of the mall on her way out and her steps slowed. She’d mentioned sweets and wine to go along with her viewing of _Roman Holiday_ ; she might as well treat herself to some of the good stuff. Going inside, she weaved around other shoppers buying last-minute gifts and browsed the shelves until she found herself a nice box of assorted truffles. Pleased with her selection, she went to the front of the store to pay for it and had just turned to leave when she heard a voice call out her name.

Looking around, Jemma stopped dead in her tracks when she saw that it was Milton. Her ex-boyfriend. Milton, who she had not seen in some months since she’d broken up with him and he’d taken it rather poorly. Milton, who was now approaching her with a smile on his face.

“Jemma!” he said, stopping in front of her. “Hi, long time, no see! How are you?”

“Oh, I’m—I’m fine,” she said, putting on a smile. Really, running into him today? It was too much. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he replied, pushing his glasses up his nose with another smile. “It’s so good to see you. “What are you up to?”

She was in a chocolate store on Valentine’s Day, what did he think she was doing? “I’m—well, I just bought some chocolate, for later,” Jemma said, holding up her bag slightly and keeping her smile fixed in place. “Um—you?”

“Same.” Milton laughed. “I mean, I’m getting some chocolate for my mom. I know it’s a little last-minute, but she was complaining that my dad didn’t get her anything, so I wanted to do something nice, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jemma murmured, wondering how she could politely excuse herself from this conversation.

“So, um…” Milton’s entire demeanor changed, turning a little hesitant and unsure. “It’s really nice to see you, Jemma. Really. I’ve missed you.” He smiled at her, smaller this time. “Look, I know it’s been awhile, but… do you think maybe we could try again? Start over? Go slow this time? It’s just, I thought we worked so well together—”

Jemma’s eyes widened. Oh god, he wanted to get back together. In the middle of the mall. It was a definite no from her, she wasn’t interested at all, but—how could she gracefully bow out of this? How could Milton even think she wanted to date him again and put her on the spot like this?

Suddenly there was an arm tight around her shoulders and a body pressed to her side. “Hey love, there you are,” a voice said. “I thought I’d find you here. Weren’t we supposed to meet at the bookstore?”

Jemma froze. It was Fitz. Fitz, who was smiling at her like she was the sun in his sky, whose grip on her was almost painfully tight. Fitz, who had appeared out of nowhere at the worst (best?) moment possible and was definitely pretending to be her boyfriend. 

“Um—yes—hi,” she blurted, knowing if she didn’t go along with whatever the hell Fitz was doing, things would just get worse. She put her smile back on and looked from Fitz to Milton, who was staring at them, gobsmacked. “Sorry.”

“No, _I’m_ sorry,” Milton said, his expression now extremely uncomfortable. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

Jemma felt her smile turn a little manic. “Oh—I mean—I’m—” she stammered, looking helplessly at Fitz, but Fitz just smiled serenely and said, “Yes, that’s me. The boyfriend.”

Jemma just stared at him. Milton winced before visibly pulling himself together and looking pointedly at her. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

She turned her stare on him, feeling stuck. Fitz squeezed his arm around her. “Oh—well, this is all very new,” she managed, laughing awkwardly, and glanced at Fitz, hoping she looked like a model girlfriend. “And you took me by surprise.”

Milton smiled, though now it looked more like a grimace. “Well, congratulations,” he said. “You look very happy.”

“Do we?” Jemma squeaked, while Fitz squeezed her tight again and beamed, saying, “Thank you.”

Milton glanced between the two of them before shifting awkwardly on his feet. “Well… I’d better get going,” he said, holding up the box of chocolates he was holding. “It was nice to see you, Jemma.”

“Yes, nice to see you too,” she murmured as Fitz steered her away, toward the store’s exit. She followed along until they were outside, back on the mall’s concourse, and then she pulled away, out of his arms. “Fitz!” she hissed, as quietly as she could. “What was—what—what was _that_?!”

Fitz gaped at her, eyes wide. “I—I, um—well, I was passing by and I—I saw you talking to that bloke and your entire body language was screaming for help, so I—I just acted on instinct!”

Jemma stared back at him, completely at a loss. “By pretending to be my boyfriend?!”

Fitz shrugged helplessly, throwing his hands out, palms up. “I don’t know, I just reacted!”

Jemma shook her head. “And you called me _love_?”

Fitz’s face turned distressed. “I don’t know, I’ve never had a girlfriend!” When Jemma just sighed and looked away, he took a deep breath and looked around, as if checking to make sure they hadn’t made a scene. “You could at least thank me, you know,” he mumbled, quieter. “He’s left you alone. Who was that, anyway?”

“That was Milton,” Jemma said, calming down and letting herself acknowledge that Fitz _had_ rescued her, albeit in a completely unnecessary fashion. “Remember me telling you about him?”

“Your ex?” Fitz made a face. “That’s awkward.” 

“Extremely,” Jemma agreed. “Especially since he was asking if I wanted to get back together with him.”

Fitz’s expression pulled into a grimace. “ _Oh_. Good thing I happened by, then?”

Jemma scrunched her nose. “I could have handled it.”

“I don’t know,” Fitz hedged. “You looked kind of desperate.”

“Ugh, Fitz.” She sighed. “You _did_ help, though. Sort of. Can I buy you a tea in thanks?”

Fitz finally relaxed, his mouth spreading into a small smile. “Sure, I’d like that. Thanks.”

-:- 

“So it looks like we met up on Valentine’s Day anyway,” Fitz said as they walked through the mall, headed for the food court. 

“Yes, I guess we did,” Jemma replied. She glanced aside at him. He was walking with his hands in his coat pockets, looking around at the shops they passed, a pleasant expression on his face. “Funny, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, and smiled. “No date?”

“No date,” she confirmed, shaking her head. “What about you?”

“No, me neither.” He sighted the Starbucks at the food court up ahead and aimed for it. “Were your friends having a go at you for it?”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she sighed. “Talking about how sad it was I had to spend the night at home alone with films and chocolate and how I should chat up this man in their physiotherapy class. No thank you.”

Fitz whistled quietly. “Harsh. Mine weren’t. At least, my best mate wasn’t. He was too busy going on and on about this whole production he’s having to put on for his girlfriend or else she’ll have his head.”

“That sounds familiar,” Jemma murmured as they got in line at the Starbucks, thinking of Hunter and all the ways he complained about having to do things to keep Bobbi happy. 

“I don’t think it’s that big a deal,” Fitz added. “Valentine’s Day, I mean. It’s a very commercialized holiday. If I had a girlfriend I’d still do something nice, something thoughtful, but I don’t think I’d go all out with chocolates and teddy bears and flowers.” He scratched at his chin. “Maybe flowers.”

Jemma smiled at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be a romantic?”

“I am!” Fitz cried. “I’m just—I’m not cheesy about it.”

“Right,” Jemma said, looking away, her smile widening.

They made it through the line with little fuss, both of them ordering Earl Greys, though Jemma thought Fitz put far too much sugar in his. He told her he was parked in the same parking deck that she was, so they started ambling toward the Macy’s it was attached to so they could leave.

“So…” Fitz said, taking a careful sip of his tea and looking up toward the second level of shops, “has this run-in with your ex made you rethink my offer for the whole platonic date thing?”

Jemma gave him a sideways glance. It was a little strange for him to bring it back up, but he didn’t look like he had any ulterior motives. And she _was_ tired of her friends nagging her, and the incident with Milton had been awkward as arse. “Maybe a little,” she replied, taking a sip of her own tea. Then she sighed. “Maybe a lot.”

“Aha,” Fitz said with a smile.

“It would be nice to have someone around so my friends would leave me alone,” she confessed. “ _Really_ around.”

Fitz did a double-take. “That sounds like… you want an actual boyfriend,” he said warily.

Jemma pursed her lips thoughtfully as they walked, thinking it over. “Maybe I do. But not really. Something more like… a friend, or someone I can _tell_ people is my boyfriend so they’ll leave me alone.”

“So, a fake boyfriend.”

“Yes? No? Maybe?” Jemma’s voice went a little squeaky at the fear he would think her horribly gauche, and she glanced aside at him again. “Would you be opposed to that?”

Fitz took another sip of his tea and stared ahead for a moment. “Well, everyone thought we were dating at the New Year’s party,” he said at length. “I don’t see why we couldn’t act like it for a while, if it gets our friends to leave us alone.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Jemma breathed, glad he hadn’t told her off for being silly or rude.

“ _But_ ,” he added, looking at her, “if we’re going to do this, there should be rules.”

“Right, yes, of course,” she said, sobering back up. “Rules. Let’s see… so we’ll be pretending to be dating, yeah?” Fitz nodded. “But we should keep it platonic. That means no sex.”

Fitz’s cheeks visibly flushed. “Right,” he replied, and coughed once. “Absolutely not.”

“And it’ll be fine,” Jemma rushed to add, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “I won’t even be tempted. You’re not really my type.”

If anything, Fitz’s face turned even redder. “Oh, wow, thank you,” he deadpanned. “A ringing endorsement. Your friends will really believe you’re dating me, then.”

“I’m just being honest!” Jemma exclaimed, now feeling embarrassed. Fitz might fall outside of the type of man she normally went for, but there was nothing _wrong_ with him. 

“Right,” Fitz muttered, scratching at his ear. “And—um—well, I don’t find you all that attractive.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Jemma said again, slightly stung. “Well… I suppose I deserved that.”

Fitz hummed to himself, still staring straight ahead. “So no sex, that’s cleared… do you expect any, um, kissing?”

She thought it over for a moment. The thought of properly kissing Fitz was briefly and unexpectedly tantalizing, but she quickly brushed it away. If they were going to stay platonic, they’d better do it in all aspects of their relationship. And he wasn’t her type and he didn’t think she was attractive. “Just on the cheek should do it, when appropriate I think,” she said.

Fitz nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Good. I’m not very keen on PDA.”

“And if we meet someone we actually _do_ want to date, we can call the whole thing off with no hard feelings,” Jemma added.

Fitz nodded again. “Right, of course. I agree.”

“Can you think of anything else?”

“Hmmm…” This time, Fitz shook his head. “No, no, I think that’s good.”

Jemma smiled. That settled it, then. “Should we shake on it?”

Fitz came to a stop right outside the entrance to Macy’s. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s shake on it.” He transferred his tea to his left hand and held out his right with a smile, his eyes sparkling with good humor. “Here’s to us, I guess.”

Jemma took his hand and gave it a firm pump, smiling back. His palm was warm against hers. “Here’s to us.”


	4. St. Patrick's Day

It was St. Patrick’s Day, and the bar Fitz and Jemma were currently at was filled to the brim with revellers, all drinking pints or doing shots or cheering at the sports games being shown on the various televisions spread throughout the large room. They’d been lucky enough to find a small table near the bar, and were currently both nursing pints and sharing a plate of loaded chips while watching a soccer game on one of the TVs and discussing work projects.

This wasn’t an official fake date—more like just hanging out together so they wouldn’t be brought along as third wheels with their respective friends. It had seemed like an alright thing when Fitz had brought it up the day before at the lab. He’d said he’d used her as an excuse when his best mate had asked him along to go bar-hopping for St. Patrick’s Day.

“I didn’t tell him I had a girlfriend,” Fitz had explained. “I never would have heard the end of it and then he would have _begged_ me to bring you along. I wasn’t risking it.”

“Is he that bad?” Jemma had asked, bemused.

Fitz had shook his head. “No, not really, but—he can be a lot to take in at once. And I wasn’t in the mood for it.”

So here they were, bumping hands when they reached for chips at the same time and grumbling over who got the cheesiest one before going back to their conversation. It wasn’t a bad way to spend an afternoon, Jemma decided. Fitz was good company. Certainly better than listening to Bobbi and Hunter arguing over their disagreement du jour while they got increasingly drunk.

“So I was telling Sanderson we just need better materials,” Fitz was saying, picking another loaded chip out of the dwindling pile on the plate between them. “Not that low-grade shite they got in from Requisitions—”

“Hey, _Fitzy_!”

They both looked up, started, and glanced around the bar for the source of the shout. They found it in Lance Hunter, who was winding his way through the crowd toward them, a wide smile on his face and Bobbi hot on his heels.

Jemma frowned. “You know Hunter?” she asked Fitz, who blinked and looked at her, startled, but anything he might have said was interrupted by the arrival of Hunter and Bobbi at their table.

“What’s this?” Hunter asked, reaching out to cuff Fitz on the shoulder. “I thought you said you were too busy to come out today.”

“Ah—yes,” Fitz said, shooting Jemma another confused look. “I was.” He gestured to Jemma. “See? Too busy.”

“Because you’re out with _Jemma_ ,” Hunter replied, sounding way too pleased. “This is new information. How do you two know each other?”

Fitz looked back and forth between Hunter and Jemma. “So wait— _you_ know each other—?”

Hunter nodded, putting an arm around Bobbi’s shoulders, who smiled. “Of course we do. She’s one of Bobbi’s best mates.”

Jemma leaned forward over the table. “How do _you_ know Hunter?” she asked Fitz.

Fitz looked back at her. “He’s _my_ best mate.”

Hunter burst out laughing as all the puzzle pieces fell into place for Jemma. “ _Oh_ ,” she said, looking from Fitz to Hunter, “he’s the one you said—”

She stopped, clicking her jaw shut. Hunter and Bobbi had a contentious relationship as it was. She didn’t need to tell Bobbi that Fitz had said Hunter complained about Valentine’s Day.

“The one what?” Bobbi asked, her brows drawing together in suspicion.

Jemma smiled brightly. “The one Fitz has only said nice things about.”

Hunter pointed between the two of them sitting at the table. “So again I ask—what’s this? Just friends, or does Fitzy have a bird he’s been keeping from me?”

Fitz pulled a face at Hunter’s terminology, but still looked to Jemma. This had started out as an unofficial date but was now being pushed into official date territory. It looked like it was time to begin their charade, if they wanted to save themselves a headache. She gave him a small smile to let him know it was okay to proceed.

Fitz visibly inhaled. “This,” he said to Hunter with his eyes still on Jemma, “is my girlfriend.”

That got a reaction from both Hunter _and_ Bobbi. “Girlfriend?! Our Jemma? Brilliant,” Hunter cried, while Bobbi reached out to slap at Jemma’s shoulder and say, “You’ve been holding back!”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Hunter asked. “We could have done a double date today.”

“Because I knew you’d give me shit about it,” Fitz shot back, picking up his beer to take a pull from it. “And—maybe—” He cut his eyes over to Jemma again. “Well, maybe we just wanted some time to ourselves. You know, alone.”

Jemma smiled to herself as Hunter hooted. That was a nice deflection. She would have to tell Fitz well done, later.

“I didn’t know you’d started seeing anyone, either,” Bobbi said, getting Jemma’s attention. “I’d think for sure this would be the kind of thing you’d tell everyone.”

She felt her cheeks flush a little. “Oh—well—it’s very new,” she said, feeling a little bit of deja vu from what she’d told Milton on Valentine’s Day. She caught Fitz’s eye. He was smiling encouragingly at her. “And like Fitz said, we just wanted some time to ourselves while we adjust to this new part of our relationship.”

There. That was a good explanation, too. Across the table, Fitz’s smile widened, and while it could be taken as that of an adoring boyfriend Jemma knew it was praise for a lie well-sold. Proving that, Bobbi smiled at them both and asked, “Is this the guy from New Year’s?” Jemma nodded. “Oh, I thought you guys were just friends,” Bobbi added.

“Well, so did I,” Jemma replied, “but…” She looked at Fitz again and smiled. “I had a change of heart. We decided to give it a chance.”

Which was not _technically_ a lie. Not entirely. She did have a change of heart, just not the kind Hunter and Bobbi believed.

Meanwhile, Hunter had slapped Fitz on the back. “Wow, Fitzy, good for you,” he said. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

That piqued Jemma’s interest. “What do you mean?” she asked, looking up at Hunter curiously.

He turned to her with a big grin. “Well, it’s just that—”

“Hey, who wants more beer?” Fitz cut in, lifting his bottle. “I’m out.” He stood from his chair, tugging on Hunter’s arm. “This is a two-man job, come on.”

The two of them disappeared off toward the bar, leaving Bobbi and Jemma alone. Bobbi stepped forward to take the seat adjacent to her and smiled. “I’m happy for you,” she said. “Really. I know being single was kind of a sore spot for you. But you guys look really good together.”

A pleased flush rolled through Jemma, though it was accompanied by a hint of guilt—probably because they were lying, and she and Fitz weren’t _really_ dating. But she brushed the thought off. They’d both agreed to the ruse and they were both in it together. And they were friends. They could deal with whatever came of it responsibly and like adults.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “We’re… happy.”

Bobbi smiled again. “Though I do have to say, I’m a little surprised.”

“Oh?” Jemma tilted her head. “Why’s that?”

Bobbi’s expression turned shrewd. “Well, he’s not really your type, is he?” she asked. “You normally go for the tall, dark, and handsome type, right? Even Milton fit that bill, though he was a bit geeky.”

The guilt flared a little, because she _had_ told Fitz he wasn’t her type. “ _Oh_ ,” she said, just a touch defensively. “Maybe he’s not my usual type, but there’s nothing wrong with him. He’s—he’s—” _Did_ she think he was handsome? “We’re very compatible intellectually,” she finished.

Bobbi gave her a look that said maybe she should have tried to play up Fitz’s looks a little more, but anything she might have said was cut off by the reappearance of Fitz and Hunter, bearing fresh beer bottles for all of them. “Here we are,” Hunter said, setting one of the bottles down in front of Bobbi and taking the seat across from Jemma. Fitz took the last empty seat across from Bobbi and handed off one of his beers to Jemma. “Why does Jemma look like she wants to crawl beneath the table?”

Bobbi smiled sweetly at Hunter. “We were just talking about girl things.”

“Ah.” Hunter nodded sagely as he took a sip of beer. “She wants to know if Fitz is any good in the sack.”

Fitz choked in the midst of taking a drink of his own beer and nearly spewed it across the table. “What?” he managed, swiping at the small amount of beer that had dribbled out with one hand.

Hunter just laughed while Bobbi rolled her eyes and Jemma suddenly became invested in reading the label on her bottle. “Well, are you?” Hunter asked.

Recovering, Fitz sat up straighter and lifted his chin slightly, trying to project some dignity. “A gentleman never kisses and tells,” he said, much to Hunter and Bobbi’s amusement, then leaned over and kissed Jemma on the cheek. That made Jemma blush again, a smile reflexively spreading over her face, and she thought that Fitz was doing a very good job at pretending to be a new, doting boyfriend. Perhaps this whole fake dating thing would go a lot easier than she had initially thought. 


	5. Easter

“Who celebrates Easter?” Fitz asked. “I mean, besides my mum. I thought it was mostly a religious holiday. Or a reason to eat sweets.”

Jemma grinned as they walked side-by-side down the sidewalk of a quiet neighborhood street in Boston. “It is—religious. But Mack and Elena have their faith, and they also see it as an excuse to have everyone over for lunch.” She looked aside at him and hoisted the small gift bag she was holding. “This year, it’s also a housewarming for their new home together. So they went to church this morning and now we’re all getting together for the annual barbecue.”

Fitz nodded thoughtfully. “Right. And, um, how many people will be there?”

She eyed him again. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. “Plenty. All of my good friends. Elena, Mack, Daisy, Bobbi, Hunter, whoever Daisy’s bringing… why, are you nervous?”

Fitz shrugged. “Not really. But… you think we can get this—” He gestured between the two of them. “Past all of them?”

“I don’t see why not,” Jemma replied. “We’ve fooled both Bobbi and Hunter so far, and he’s your best friend, yeah?”

They’d gone on two double dates with Bobbi and Hunter since St. Patrick’s Day and both outings had gone remarkably well. All they’d had to do was stay close together, smile a lot, and talk each other up. Fitz had even taken her hand to hold or put his arm around her a few times, which Jemma thought was a nice touch. It had all come quite easily, which she put down to the two of them already having a solid foundation of friendship and camaraderie as coworkers to go on. There wasn’t much they had to embellish; they could already hold conversations and they got along well. What was a few added dopey smiles and kisses on the cheek? Bobbi and Hunter had absolutely eaten all of it up, commenting on what a nice couple they made and how good they seemed to be for each other.

But this was their first time trying the ruse out on Jemma’s full friend group in one go. She supposed it made sense that Fitz might be a little nervous. She could admit to having a few butterflies herself. She just reasoned it away as wanting everything to go well and for everyone to like Fitz, and to leave her—them both, really—alone in regards to dating as a result.

“He is,” Fitz confirmed, referring to Hunter. “But I’m not really worried about him. It’s just…” He shrugged again and gave her a sort of helpless look. “I just don’t want to do anything stupid or wrong and ruin everything for you. Us, rather.”

Jemma’s expression softened. She was learning that Fitz could really be quite sweet when he wanted to be. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “You’ll be just fine. You’ve done really well so far and I don’t see why that would change. Just—be yourself. Like you have been.” She smiled. “Everyone will love you.”

It only took them a few more minutes to reach Elena and Mack’s house from the bus stop they’d started from. Jemma liked it immediately, with its neat and trim little front porch and colorful potted flowers. It seemed Elena was already hard at work brightening the place up. Fitz followed her up the steps to the front door, and watched as she rang the bell.

A minute later the door opened to show a beaming Elena. “Hello, hello!” she greeted them. “Long time, no see! Come in!” She stood aside to beckon them inside, and Jemma and Fitz both entered, looking around. “It’s so nice to meet you, Fitz,” Elena added. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Oh,” Fitz said, just a touch awkwardly. “Same. It’s nice to meet you, too.” He shot Jemma a questioning glance, but she just smiled innocently at him.

“So, I’m sure Jemma has you told we just moved in here,” Elena said, leading them through the living room. “This is the living room, of course—we bought a new sofa set so our furniture would match—and through here is our kitchen.” She brought them through an archway to a small but neat kitchen. “It’s not very big, but it gets the job done.” She smiled proudly.

“It’s beautiful,” Jemma said, smiling back. “You and Mack should be proud. Oh! Which reminds me—we got you something.” She held out the gift bag towards Elena. “I know you’ve got plenty of house goods already but we wanted to do a little something in celebration of your new home together.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” Elena exclaimed, taking the bag. “You are too kind.” She reached inside and rustled through the tissue paper to pull out a set of oven mitts.

“It’s not much,” Jemma explained, “but I really like them. They’re not as bulky as regular oven mitts but they still protect your hands. You can get more done easily.”

Elena set the bag down on the counter and slipped her hand into one of the mitts. “I love them,” she said, flexing her fingers, then looked up between Jemma and Fitz. “You got these together?”

“Ah, yes,” Fitz said, nodding. “My mum actually recommended them. Jemma got some for her flat and loved them, so we thought we’d spread the love around.” 

Elena gave them a pleased smile. “That’s wonderful,” she said, setting the mitts aside on the counter next to the bag. “You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you. But now, everyone’s outside—let’s go say hello.”

Jemma shot Fitz a grin of victory as they followed Elena again. Fitz’s mum really had suggested the mitts—to Fitz, who had in turn mentioned them to Jemma in casual conversation at the lab, and it had all come together perfectly for the two of them to get them as a housewarming gift for Elena and Mack. So technically, it _was_ from the both of them. Just not quite in the way Elena probably thought.

Outside in their small backyard, Mack and Hunter were hovering over the grill while Bobbi and Daisy stood on the patio by the table with beers in hand. With them were two men Jemma didn’t recognize. She frowned in confusion. Had Daisy brought _two_ dates?

“Jemma and Fitz are here!” Elena announced. A cheer went up from everyone gathered as they looked up to call out greetings; Elena went to go see how the boys were doing at the grill while Jemma led Fitz over to Bobbi and Daisy.

“Hey guys!” Bobbi said, reaching down into the cooler at her feet. She pulled out two beers for them and passed them over, followed by the bottle opener. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Jemma replied, popping the top off her bottle, then handing the opener to Fitz. “How are you? I see we’re the last ones here.”

“Yeah, you guys weren’t pregaming at Jemma’s place, were you?” Daisy asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Fitz set the bottle opener on the table and took a swig of his beer. “Pregaming?”

Daisy stared at him for a second in disbelief. “Nevermind,” she said.

“We missed the first bus,” Jemma explained, “so that put us a bit behind. But we’re here now!” She turned to the scruffy blonde man who was standing next to Daisy. “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jemma.”

“Lincoln,” he replied, reaching out to shake her offered hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Jemma said with a smile, mentally taking note of the name of Daisy’s date du jour. She put a hand on Fitz’s elbow. “And this is my boyfriend, Fitz.”

They’d had enough practice by now that Fitz didn’t even blink at being referred to as her boyfriend. He switched hands with his bottle and held one out for Lincoln to shake. “Cheers,” he said. 

Lincoln smiled and nodded as they shook hands. “He’s a doctor,” Daisy said, beaming. “We met when I had to take a coworker to the ER for an electrical burn.”

“Oh, I’m not quite a doctor yet,” Lincoln said with a modest shake of his head. “I’m still in the middle of my residency.” 

“Well, that’s good enough for me,” Daisy laughed, leaning into his side. “You patched Michael right up!”

Fitz shot Jemma a surreptitious glance, the question in his eyes clear to her: _is she always like this?_

Jemma hid a small smile for him behind her beer bottle. _Yes, she is_.

“And I brought along a guest, too!” Bobbi said, indicating the dark-haired man who was standing in between her and Daisy. “Well, Hunter and I did. Jemma, remember when I tried to set you up with that guy from my physiotherapy class? This is him—Daniel Sousa.”

Daniel smiled and nodded in greeting just like Lincoln had, though he appeared a little embarrassed when he looked at Jemma. “Hi,” he said. “I remember Bobbi saying she had a single friend she was trying to set up, but—” He inclined his head at Fitz. “It looks like that’s no longer a problem.”

Oh, this was embarrassing. Jemma laughed awkwardly. “Oh—no—no, not at all,” she said, taking a step closer to Fitz. “I’m very happy here.”

Thankfully, Fitz played along perfectly by putting an arm around her shoulders. “Yeah, very happy,” he echoed, and punctuated that statement by pressing a small kiss to her temple. A little tingle went down her spine.

Daisy and Bobbi looked like they wanted to cry out of cuteness. Even Lincoln’s expression was soft. To Jemma’s relief, Daniel just smiled, and it seemed sincere. “Yeah, I see,” he said. “I would have hated to get in the way of true love.”

Everybody laughed, and even Jemma and Fitz managed to as well, Fitz hugging Jemma a little closer.

“Daniel is kinda new in town,” Bobbi explained. “I thought I’d invite him so he could have a chance to meet some people and make friends. So be nice!”

“Hey guys,” Hunter said, wandering over from the grill followed by Elena. He stopped next to Fitz and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We could use some help with the grill, if any of you men are interested.”

“You mean, watching the meat cook?” Bobbi asked, giving him a shrewd look.

“And other things,” Hunter protested. “It’s all very manly. And I thought it would give you ladies a chance to, you know, talk lady business. Or whatever it is you do.”

“Thanks, Hunter,” Elena said drily. “We get what you mean.”

Hunter grinned. “Come on, then, lads, let’s go. At least we can stand around and drink beer.” He clapped Fitz on the shoulder again and turned to go, Lincoln and Daniel following him.

Fitz gave Jemma a questioning look. She smiled at him, nodding slightly, and he turned to follow the other men over to join Mack at the grill as well.

Jemma watched him go, then looked back to Daisy, Bobbi, and Elena. They were all smiling at her. “Fitz seems very sweet,” Elena said.

Jemma smiled back on instinct. “He is,” she replied, and she meant it. He’d been nothing but nice to her ever since they’d met and he was proving to be a very kind fake boyfriend.

Bobbi made a soft noise. “You guys still doing okay?” she asked. “Still in that happy ‘new relationship’ phase?”

Jemma laughed. “Oh—yes. Very much. We, um… he, he’s very attentive.”

Elena’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, attentive. That’s a choice word,” she joked.

“Yeah,” Daisy added. “Tell us more.”

Jemma felt her cheeks flush, knowing what line of thinking her friends were going down. She hadn’t meant to suggest _that_. “Well, he’s—he’s—it’s like I said, he’s very kind and sweet and—” She took a hasty sip of her beer. “Attentive to my needs.”

“Mmmhmm,” Bobbi hummed, nodding. “ _Needs_.”

Jemma was sure her cheeks were glowing now. “He is!” she cried, then looked over her shoulder to see if the men had heard her. They were all clustered around the grill, where Mack was poking at hamburger patties and ribs, fully engrossed. She turned back to the girls, lowering her voice. “I mean, he is.”

Daisy was grinning widely. “It’s okay,” she said. “You can tell us he’s good in bed.”

Jemma tried not to choke on her beer. But there was no reason to be a prude about it, she told herself—she and Fitz had been ‘dating’ roughly a month by now, and they’d presented a happy front, so shouldn’t they have already slept together? Hypothetically? Besides, Fitz would probably appreciate her extolling his virtues. For all she knew, he was over there at the grill with Hunter and Mack bragging on himself right now.

“He is,” she said, with as much dignity as she could muster. “Very good. As I said, very attentive to my needs.” She wasn’t going to go into _too_ much detail. There was only so much improvising she could do.

Bobbi, Elena, and Daisy were all nodding in approval. “Sounds like you found a keeper,” Elena said. “There’s not a lot of men out there like that.” Daisy and Bobbi nodded again—Daisy a little bit too vehemently, Jemma thought. She took another sip of her beer.

“Well, it’s still early days,” she said casually. “We get along well and yes he’s good in bed, but it’s too soon to tell if it’s anything tenable long-term.”

Bobbi snorted. “Oh, please. You two are solid. You get massive heart eyes whenever you talk about him.”

Jemma gulped, a little thrown. “I do?”

She must be doing her job well.

-:-

Once Mack was done grilling, everyone gathered at the picnic table to dig into hamburgers, hot dogs, and ribs. Jemma found herself sitting between Fitz and Daniel, something which Fitz found very amusing.

“Should I be concerned that you’ve been sat next to the bloke Bobbi wanted to set you up with?” he asked _sotto voce_ , a sparkle in his eyes and a grin twitching up the corners of his mouth. “I’m not going to have to feign jealousy, am I?”

“Hardly,” Jemma murmured back as she swallowed a bit of potato wedge. “It’s not like Bobbi’s trying to direct my attention away from you. And _shhhh_. We don’t want anyone to overhear you saying that sort of thing.” Fitz just grinned and took a bite of his cheeseburger. “What did you think of him?” she asked.

“Are you _sure_ you’re not interested?” he teased around his mouthful of food.

She swatted at his arm. “ _Fitz_.”

“Alright, alright, I was just teasing,” he laughed. “He’s a nice bloke. Very polite. Got along better with everyone than Lincoln, at least. He just seemed nervous.”

They looked across the table at the doctor in question, who was sitting next to Daisy and dunking his potato wedges in her ketchup, laughing at something she was saying. “Probably because he knows this is just a fling,” Jemma mused. “It’s not very serious, for Daisy at least. And he might really like her.” They watched as Daisy in turn laughed at something he said in reply. “Which is sad, because he seems sweet enough.”

“Hmm,” Fitz said.

Jemma tore her eyes away from Daisy and Lincoln and looked at Fitz. He was chewing another bite of his cheeseburger with a contemplative expression. “You think so?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he said again. Then he blinked and looked at her, swallowing his food. “I mean, yeah. It is kind of sad. He’s an alright guy.”

Jemma nodded and picked up a potato wedge to bite into. At least he agreed with her.

-:-

After lunch was over and a good bit of socializing, Elena walked Fitz and Jemma to the door to tell them goodbye. “Thank you for coming,” she said warmly. “It was nice to meet you, Fitz. You make a lovely couple.”

“Oh, thanks,” Fitz said, and smiled at Jemma before putting an arm around her to briefly hug her close. “It’s nice that people can see that.”

“Yeah, you’re nauseating,” Hunter called out from the kitchen.

Fitz made a face in his friend’s general direction, but smiled at Elena again before letting Jemma go. “Thanks for having us over.”

“Any time,” Elena smiled. 

“So that went well,” Fitz said a few minutes later, when they were well down the sidewalk away from the house.

“Yes, it went very well,” Jemma agreed. “Did you have fun?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I did. Mack grills a mean hamburger.”

Jemma laughed. “Having you there with me was so much better than being the odd one out. And while Daniel is very nice, I don’t think I could have stood all of the not-so-subtle prodding everyone would have done, trying to push us together. It would have been excruciating.”

Fitz huffed a laugh in return. “Glad to know I’m good for something.”

Jemma’s smile widened as she reached out to rap her hand against his arm. “Don’t be silly, Fitz! You’re good for plenty of things.”

The way Fitz’s smile brightened kept her mood boosted the whole way home.


	6. Cinco de Mayo

“So I told Bobbi that it was absolutely foolproof,” Hunter said, walking around the far side of the pool table with his cue stick. “There was no way I would get caught in the act. I’d planned out every little detail, right down to the second. It was going to be the prank to end all pranks.”

Jemma and Fitz were out on another double date with Bobbi and Hunter, this time to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. They’d gone for tacos at one of their favorite Mexican joints, which had been fun, and now they were at a bar for bottomless tequila shots and pool. Fitz was winning, naturally, due to his knowledge of physics and geometry, which Bobbi and Jemma were cheerfully giving him a hard time about. Meanwhile, Hunter was in the middle of regaling them with the tale of a joke he’d played on one of his coworkers at the IT firm he worked at.

“So how did it go?” Jemma asked, watching Hunter move to line up a shot. 

“Horribly,” Bobbi replied, rolling her eyes.

Hunter shot her a dirty look. “It did not,” he said, then turned back to the pool table. He made to take his shot, but paused. “Well, the timing was off and it was our supervisor who ended up with a face full of lemon meringue instead of Tom, but other than that, everything went according to plan.”

Fitz laughed as Hunter sent the cue ball racing across the table, striking a few of the number balls. “There was this one time, Jemma—”

“Ah!” Hunter stood up straight, holding up a finger to silence him. “You mentioned Jemma. Take a drink, mate.”

It was Fitz’s turn to roll his eyes. “This is the most ridiculous thing ever, how am I supposed to _not_ mention—”

“These were the terms agreed upon,” Hunter said, shaking his head. He picked up his beer to take a swig while Bobbi looked on in amusement. “You talk about her more than any man should. So every time you mention Jemma, you have to take a drink. Go on, then, bottoms up.”

“The terms _you_ agreed on,” Fitz muttered, reaching for his glass of tequila. “She’s my girlfriend _and_ my lab partner, of course I’m going to talk about her.”

That put a warm glow in Jemma’s chest as she watched him take a healthy sip of tequila, grimacing a little as the alcohol burned down his throat. She agreed that Hunter’s rule was a bit unfair, but Fitz was being awfully sweet about it. She didn’t think he was talking about her any more than he did at work, but he was cute when he was grumbly and affectionate when he was tipsy. She didn’t mind it. The affection, that is, because it helped sell their fake relationship. And maybe because it was just nice to have the attention paid to her, too.

“I think Fitz was going to mention the time I played a prank on a rather insufferable lab tech down the hall from us,” she said. “It was very mild, but very effective. I just switched out the samples on one of his non-hazardous experiments to greatly inflate the results. The look on his face when the analysis came in was priceless. He knew there was no way those results were accurate and he came right to us for help.” She smiled sweetly. “He never questioned my methods again.”

Bobbi grinned in approval, but Fitz just stared at her. “How did you know what I was going to say?” he demanded.

Jemma gave him her sweetest smile. “It’s just a product of knowing you so well,” she said, which really wasn’t a lie. You weren’t lab partners with someone for years and a pretend couple for a few months and _not_ get to know them well. Besides, the thread of the conversation suggested Fitz was going to bring up her prank. It was simple logic.

Bobbi smirked. “Maybe we should start making you take a shot every time you mention Fitz,” she said. 

Across the pool table from her, Hunter perked up. “You know, that is not a bad idea.”

Jemma gulped.

-:-

An hour and a half later, she and Fitz were completely shitfaced. 

They weren’t even really playing pool anymore—they were barely hanging onto their cue sticks, or each other for that matter, watching Bobbi trounce Hunter in their third go at playing each other. Fitz was trying to get a very important point across.

“What I’m trying to—I mean, what I’m trying to say is,” he said loudly, one arm slung heavily across Jemma’s shoulders, “is that Jemma is—Jemma is…” He trailed off, like he’d lost his train of thought, or perhaps gotten distracted. Jemma gently nudged him and he perked right back up. “Jemma is the _best_ girlfriend I’ve ever had,” he finished, and looked to her with a dopey, sweet smile filled with affection on his face. 

“Take another shot, mate,” Hunter mumbled, chewing on his thumbnail as he studied the layout of the balls spread across the table.

Bobbi frowned at him. “He’s out of tequila. And it’s probably for the best. I mean…” She gestured in their direction. “Look at them.”

Because Jemma was beaming back at Fitz, flooded with warmth and affection of her own. “I am your _only_ girlfriend,” she reminded him, and capped it off by lightly tapping the tip of his nose.

“So?” Fitz replied. “Doesn’t make it untrue. You’re the best.” He wrapped both his arms around her and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek before nuzzling in, making her laugh.

“Alright,” Bobbi said, leaning her cue stick against the table. “I think it’s time we get you two home before you start making out in front of the entire bar. Hunter, I’m going to call them an Uber.”

“Oh, we will _not_ ,” Jemma protested, but Fitz was kissing her cheek again and it was hard for her not to giggle at how ticklish it was and how happy it made her.

Bobbi leveled her with a shrewd stare. “Are you sure about that?” She grabbed each of their arms and started prying them apart. “Come on. Let’s leave some room for Jesus, here.”

She managed to separate them and herd them both up to the front entrance of the bar, where she called for an Uber on her phone app. “I’m sending you both to Jemma’s,” she said. “You can argue over who’s the best whatever all you want there.”

“Yeah, sure,” Fitz said, holding on tightly to Jemma’s hand. “‘S fine.”

“I’m going to win,” Jemma added.

“I’m sure,” Bobbi murmured, guiding them both out onto the sidewalk outside. “Just keep the details to yourself, okay? I don’t need to know all of that.”

Fitz caught Jemma as she tripped on an uneven paving stone and she laughed, feeling completely safe in his arms even though they were both soused out of their minds. Maybe _he_ was the best boyfriend.

-:-

When Jemma opened her eyes the next morning, she found herself lying on her living room room rug with a throw pillow beneath her head, a bad taste in her mouth and a horrible headache pounding behind her eyes. Groaning softly, she looked down and was mildly horrified to find herself dressed in only her bra and knickers.

Oh. Oh dear.

Then she looked up and caught a bare foot in her field of vision. Following it, she found Fitz sprawled on her sofa, asleep and snoring lightly with his mouth hanging open, bare-chested yet covered from the waist down by her throw blanket.

A hot flush of _something_ ran through her from her head down to the tips of her toes. “Oh _dear_ ,” she said out loud, and immediately regretted it from the way her headache spiked.

Fitz snorted, reaching up with one hand to rub at his eyes before blinking them open, squinting into the sunlight filtering through the curtains. Then his gaze flicked down to her, and his eyes widened.

“Oh!” he yelped, jerking against the pillow beneath his head and clutching at the throw blanket. Jemma cried out too, sitting up quickly—another mistake—and crossing her arms over her chest.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“What?” Fitz cried, rubbing at his eyes again. “ _Me_? I mean… I think… yeah, Bobbi got us an Uber here last night. Because we were pissed.”

Jemma continued to look at him in alarm. “Why would she do that?”

Fitz peered at her from between his fingers. “Because… she thinks we’re dating?”

“Oh. Right.” Jemma looked down, at her arms covering her breasts. “What do you remember?”

He sagged back against the throw pillow. “Nothing. No… nothing. I remember getting out of the Uber here and that’s it. You?”

She thought for a moment. “I remember laughing because we couldn’t find the right button for the lift. But that’s it.”

“Right geniuses, we are,” Fitz muttered, closing his eyes again. 

“Well, that doesn’t explain how we ended up _here_ ,” Jemma muttered, struggling to her feet. Fitz cracked open an eye at her, then did a double-take.

“Um,” he said, his voice gone hoarse and squeaky, “are those my pants?”

She looked down at herself and gasped. Oh dear god, those were not her knickers she was wearing. She absolutely, one hundred percent had Fitz’s boxer-briefs on. “ _Oh_ ,” she blurted, taking a step back and making an aborted movement to cover herself up again. “Um—” Then she shot him a half-accusing, half-terrified look. “Are you wearing anything beneath that blanket?!”

Fitz sank even more into the sofa, pulling the blanket slightly up his chest. His cheeks were blazing. “Er… no.”

Feeling a vague sense of panic crawling up her throat, Jemma cast her eyes around until she spotted her knickers draped over the edge of the coffee table. She snatched them up, then edged away around the back of the sofa towards her bed, which lay in a nook at the back of her studio apartment. “I am just… going to change,” she said. “Don’t look.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Fitz said, now out of sight behind the back of the sofa.

Jemma still kept an eye on him as she shimmied out of his boxer-briefs and reached for her knickers, trying not to think too hard about the fact that she had been _wearing Fitz’s underwear_ and that he was _nude on her sofa_. What the hell had they gotten up to last night? Strip poker??

“Jemma?” came Fitz’s voice. “You don’t think we… had sex, do you?”

She looked up sharply from reaching for her house robe in her closet. “ _No_! What makes you think that?”

“Jemma.” This time his voice was extremely dry and deadpan. “I’m starkers on your sofa and you’re wearing my pants.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” she shot back primly, though there was a seed of doubt in her mind.

“It means _something_ ,” Fitz countered. 

“Yes, that we were highly inebriated and went a bit overboard,” Jemma replied, tying the sash of her robe around her waist. She pressed a hand to her forehead. She really needed some Tylenol. “We probably just played strip poker or something like that.”

Fitz was silent for a second. “Can’t you tell?” he asked.

Jemma sighed. “Tell what?”

“If we had sex?”

“Fitz!” she hissed in horror, a little sharper than she meant to. “You are a _scientist_ , you should know better than to ask something like that!”

“Hey!” he cried defensively, still hidden behind the sofa. “No girlfriends, remember! And I’m an engineer, not a biologist like you.”

She threw his boxer-briefs at him. They sailed over the back of the sofa and evidently hit their mark, because she heard Fitz splutter. “Well since you asked, _no_ , I do not believe we did,” she snapped. “There’s no… evidence.”

“Right,” Fitz mumbled. He’d sat up and, judging by his movements, was getting his pants on without standing up and baring all to her. Then he did stand—pants safely on—and she was treated to the pert shape of his bum through the fabric of them as he reached for his jeans, which were slung over the back of her armchair. She swallowed. 

“Well,” she said, pushing down the funny feeling that had just risen in her chest, “now that _that’s_ sorted… breakfast?”

Fitz glanced up at her with his jeans in hand, and the sunlight coming through the window picked out bright highlights in his hair as he smiled shyly at her, giving him a golden halo. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

That funny feeling surged again.


End file.
